When out of sight the clouds are driven
And she is left alone in heaven;
Or like a ship some gentle day
In sunshine sailing far away,
Fair Pilgrim! harbours she a sense 110
Of sorrow, or of reverence?
Can she be grieved for quire or shrine,
Crushed as if by wrath divine?
A glittering ship, that hath the plain 65 For what survives of house where God
Of ocean for her own domain.
Lie silent in your graves, ye dead!
Lie quiet in your churchyard bed!
Ye living, tend your holy cares;
Ye multitude, pursue your prayers;
And blame not me if my heart and sight
Are occupied with one delight!
Tis a work for sabbath hours
If I with this bright Creature go:
Whether she be of forest bowers,
From the bowers of earth below;
Or a Spirit for one day given,
A pledge of grace from purest heaven.
What harmonious pensive changes
Wait upon her as she ranges
Round and through this Pile of state
Werthrown and desolate!
fow a step or two her way
Leads through space of open day,
Where the enamoured sunny light
Brightens her that was so bright;
Sow doth a delicate shadow fall,
falls upon her like a breath,
From some lofty arch or wall,
As she passes underneath :
Now some gloomy nook partakes
If the glory that she makes,--
High-ribbed vault of stone, or cell,
With perfect cunning framed as well
If stone, and ivy, and the spread
Of the elder's bushy head;
jome jealous and forbidding cell,
That doth the living stars repel,
Was worshipped, or where Man abode;
For old magnificence undone;
Or for the gentler work begun
By Nature, softening and concealing,
And busy with a hand of healing?
Mourns she for lordly chamber's hearth
That to the sapling ash gives birth;
For dormitory's length laid bare
Where the wild rose blossoms fair;
Or altar, whence the cross was rent,
75 Now rich with mossy ornament?
-She sees a warrior carved in stone,
Among the thick weeds, stretched alone;
A warrior, with his shield of pride
Cleaving humbly to his side,
And hands in resignation prest,
Palm to palm, on his tranquil breast;
As little she regards the sight
As a common creature might:
If she be doomed to inward care,
Or service, it must lie elsewhere.
And where no flower hath leave to dwell.
without distress, doth she
So,
Lie down in peace, and lovingly.
The day is placid in its going,
To a lingering motion bound,
The presence of this wandering Doe 100 Like the crystal stream now flowing 150
And quickly spread themselves abroad,
While each pursues his several road.
But some-a variegated band
Of middle-aged, and old, and young,
And little children by the hand
Upon their leading mothers hung-
With mute obeisance gladly paid
Turn towards the spot where, full in view,
The white Doe, to her service true,
Her sabbath couch has made.
Nor to the Child's enquiring mind
Is such perplexity confined:
For, spite of sober Truth that sees
A world of fixed remembrances
Which to this mystery belong,
165 If, undeceived, my skill can trace
The characters of every face,
There lack not strange delusion here,
Conjecture vague, and idle fear,
And superstitious fancies strong,
Which do the gentle Creature wrong.
Which two spears' length of level ground
Did from all other graves divide:
As if in some respect of pride;
Or melancholy's sickly mood,
Still shy of human neighbourhood;
Or guilt, that humbly would express
A penitential loneliness.
That bearded, staff-supported Sire-
Who in his boyhood often fed
Full cheerily on convent-bread
And heard old tales by the convent-fire,
And to his grave will go with scars,
Relics.of long and distant wars—
That Old Man, studious to expound
The spectacle, is mounting high
"Look, there she is, my Child! draw To days of dim antiquity;
When Lady Aäliza mourned Her Son, and felt in her despair The pang of unavailing prayer; 181Her Son in Wharf's abysses drowned, for The noble Boy of Egremound.
She fears not, wherefore should we fear?
She means no harm;"--but still the Boy,
To whom the words were softly said,
Hung back, and smiled, and blushed
joy,
A shame-faced blush of glowing red!
Again the Mother whispered low,
"Now you have seen the famous Doe; 185
From Rylstone she hath found her way
Over the hills this sabbath day;
Her work, whate'er it be, is done,
And she will depart when we are gone;
Thus doth she keep, from year to year,
Her sabbath morning, foul or fair."
Bright was the Creature, as in dreams
The Boy had seen her, yea, more bright;
But is she truly what she seems?
He asks with insecure delight,
Asks of himself, and doubts,-and still
The doubt returns against his will:
Though he, and all the standers-by,
Could tell a tragic history
Of facts divulged, wherein appear
Substantial motive, reason clear,
Why thus the milk-white Doe is found
Couchant beside that lonely mound;
And why she duly loves to pace
The circuit of this hallowed place.
From which affliction-when the grace
Of God had in her heart found place-
A pious structure, fair to see,
Rose up, this stately Priory!
The Lady's work;-but now laid low;
To the grief of her soul that doth come
and go,
In the beautiful form of this innocent
Doe:
Which, though seemingly doomed in
breast to sustain
A softened remembrance of sorrow and pain,
Is spotless, and holy, and gentle, and bright;
And glides o'er the earth like an angel
Pass, pass who will, yon chantry
And through the chink in the fracture
Look down, and see a griesly sight;
A vault where the bodies are bured
upright!
There, face by face, and hand by hand,
The Claphams and Mauleverers stand;
And, in his place, among son and sire,
Is John de Clapham, that fierce Esquire,
valiant man, and a name of dread 250
In the ruthless wars of the White and
Red;
Who dragged Earl Pembroke from Ban- Of Bolton's dear fraternity;
bury church
But not in wars did he delight,
This Clifford wished for worthier might;
Nor in broad pomp, or courtly state; 291
Him his own thoughts did elevate,--
Most happy in the shy recess
Of Barden's lowly quietness.
And choice of studious friends had he 295
Who, standing on this old church tower,
And smote off his head on the stones of In many a calm propitious hour,
Ah, pensive Scholar, think not so,
But look again at the radiant Doe!
What quiet watch she seems to keep, 310
Alone, beside that grassy heap!
Why mention other thoughts unmeet
For vision so composed and sweet?
While stand the people in a ring,
Gazing, doubting, questioning;
Yea, many overcome in spite
Of recollections clear and bright;
Which yet do unto some impart
An undisturbed repose of heart.
And all the assembly own a law
Of orderly respect and awe;
But see-they vanish one by one,
And last, the Doe herself is gone.
Harp! we have been full long beguiled
And taught him signs, and showed him By vague thoughts, lured by fancies sights,
n Craven's dens, on Cumbrian heights;
When under cloud of fear he lay, shepherd clad in homely grey;
for left him at his later day.
and hence when he, with spear
shield,
ode full of years to Flodden-field,
is eye could see the hidden spring,
nd how the current was to flow;
he fatal end of Scotland's King,
and all that hopeless overthrow.
To which, with no reluctant strings,
Thou hast attuned thy murmurings;
And now before this Pile we stand
In solitude, and utter peace:
and But, Harp! thy murmurs may not cease-
A Spirit, with his angelic wings,
In soft and breeze-like visitings,
285 Has touched thee-and a Spirit's hand:
A voice is with us a command
To chant, in strains of heavenly glory, 335
A tale of tears, a mortal story!
THE Harp in lowliness obeyed;
Dear Father, hear me when I say
It is for you too late a day!
Bethink you of your own good name:
And first we sang of the greenwood shade A just and gracious Queen have we,
Too perfectly his headstrong will:
For on this Banner had her hand
Embroidered (such her Sire's command)
The sacred Cross; and figured there
The five dear wounds our Lord did bear;
Full soon to be uplifted high,
And float in rueful company!
It was the time when England's Queen Twelve years had reigned, a Sovereign dread; 361
Nor yet the restless crown had been
Disturbed upon her virgin head;
But now the inly-working North
Was ripe to send its thousands forth,
A potent vassalage, to fight
In Percy's and in Neville's right,
Two Earls fast leagued in discontent,
Who gave their wishes open vent;
And boldly urged a general plea,
The rites of ancient piety
To be triumphantly restored,
By the stern justice of the sword!
A pure religion, and the claim
Of peace on our humanity.—
"Tis meet that I endure your scorn;
I am your son, your eldest born;
But not for lordship or for land,
My Father, do I clasp your knees;
The Banner touch not, stay your hand,
This multitude of men disband,
And live at home in blameless ease;
For these my brethren's sake, for me;
And, most of all, for Emily!"
Tumultuous noises filled the hall;
And scarcely could the Father hear
That name-pronounced with a dyin
The name of his only Daughter dear,
As on the banner which stood near
He glanced a look of holy pride,
And his moist eyes were glorified;
Then did he seize the staff, and say:
"Thou, Richard, bear'st thy father's name
Keep thou this ensign till the day
When I of thee require the same:
Thy place be on my better hand ;—
And seven as true as thou, I see,
Will cleave to this good cause and me."
He spake, and eight brave sons straight
way
365 All followed him, a gallant band!
And that same Banner, on whose breast
The blameless Lady had exprest
Memorials chosen to give life
And sunshine to a dangerous strife;
That Banner, waiting for the Call,
Stood quietly in Rylstone-hall.
It came; and Francis Norton said, "O Father! rise not in this frayThe hairs are white upon your head;
Thus, with his sons, when forth he ca
The sight was hailed with loud acclaim
And din of arms and minstrelsy,
From all his warlike tenantry,
All horsed and harnessed with him
ride,-
A voice to which the hills replied!
But Francis, in the vacant hall,
Stood silent under dreary weight,—
A phantasm, in which roof and wall
Shook, tottered, swam before his sight;
A phantasm like a dream of night!
Thus overwhelmed, and desolate,
380 He found his way to a postern-gate;
And, when he waked, his languid eye
Was on the calm and silent sky;
past he calmly hath reviewed:
lut where will be the fortitude
f this brave man, when he shall see hat Form beneath the spreading tree, and know that it is Emily?
He saw her where in open view
he sate beneath the spreading yewler head upon her lap, concealing solitude her bitter feeling: Might ever son command a sire, he act were justified to-day." his to himself-and to the Maid, Thom now he had approached, he saidGone are they, they have their desire; nd I with thee one hour will stay, give thee comfort if I may." She heard, but looked not up, nor spake; nd sorrow moved him to partake er silence; then his thoughts turned round,
nd fervent words a passage found.
"Gone are they, bravely, though misled; Tith a dear Father at their head!
-There were they all in circle-there
Stood Richard, Ambrose, Christopher,
John with a sword that will not fail,
And Marmaduke in fearless mail,
And those bright Twins were side by side;
And there, by fresh hopes beautified, 481
Stood He, whose arm yet lacks the power
Of man, our youngest, fairest flower!
I, by the right of eldest born,
And in a second father's place,
Presumed to grapple with their scorn,
And meet their pity face to face;
Yea, trusting in God's holy aid,
I to my Father knelt and prayed;
And one, the pensive Marmaduke,
Methought, was yielding inwardly,
And would have laid his purpose by,
But for a glance of his Father's eye,
Which I myself could scarcely brook.
"Then be we, each and all, forgiven! 495 Thou, chiefly thou, my Sister dear, Whose pangs are registered in heavenThe stifled sigh, the hidden tear, And smiles, that dared to take their place, Meek filial smiles, upon thy face, As that unhallowed Banner grew Beneath a loving old Man's view. Thy part is done-thy painful part; Be thou then satisfied in heart! A further, though far easier, task Than thine hath been, my duties ask; With theirs my efforts cannot blend, I cannot for such cause contend; Their aims I utterly forswear; But I in body will be there. Unarmed and naked will I go, Be at their side, come weal or woe: On kind occasions I may wait,
he Sons obey a natural lord;
he Father had given solemn word
See, hear, obstruct, or mitigate.
1 deep and awful channel runs
his sympathy of Sire and Sons; Intried our Brothers have been loved with heart by simple nature moved; nd now their faithfulness is proved: 'or faithful we must call them, bearing hat soul of conscientious daring.
Spurned it, like something that would
Between him and the pure intent
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